


Outstretched Arms

by KitariAuthor



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 'You Are My Sunshine' the song, Comfort, Crying, Depression, Hugs, Humming, M/M, coming to an understanding, mentioned APH England
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 10:06:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17999774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitariAuthor/pseuds/KitariAuthor
Summary: Everyone's happy and a great family, but isn't Russia's? Why does everyone have a happy life but him? When he finally starts to break down an unexpected nation is there to comfort him.





	Outstretched Arms

**Author's Note:**

> Kinda based on this one Tumblr post that I reblogged from Bearcide. It was a picture of Russia crying out in the middle of a blizzarding forest with a bouquet of sunflowers. I responded with a reblog of a picture of America hugging him from behind. This is kinda like this but during a World Meeting.

Russia was mentally starting to break down. It's world meeting time and everyone was conversing about this world problem and that financial issue. Russia just sat there, smiling widely, putting in his input whenever shakily asked. It was just starting to get terrible. After so long, he finally was starting to crack. Why did they have to remind him? Look at them. Look at them all. They might argue and pitch fights, but an idiot could see that they didn't hate each other. They were perfectly normal, albeit not exactly human, families living their lives and able to lean on one another. But Russia's family? It was torn apart. Belarus wanted a love that Russia didn't want to give. Ukraine wasn't even permitted to see him. His Baltics hated him and were terrified of his presence, he wondered why they were even called 'his'. 

But the Russian just sat there. He was only there for what he was needed for, and that was power, resources, and ideas. His thoughts and emotions were worthless to everyone else.

"I swear, America, the next time you suggest we use a robot to solve global warming-!" England started to threaten.

America butted in with an objection, "But you didn't even hear how it'll even work!"

"There's no way it'll work! It's a waste of resources and time!" the former colonizer yelled, "Quit bringing up the same stupid idea! It won't work, America!"

America froze for a second before huffing down into his seat, taking a big bite out of his burger, "You say that, but none of you have ever heard the actual plan."

Germany called the meeting to attention, per usual, making everyone snap back to somewhat a degree of focus. In the end, they've accomplished nothing and everyone bustled out of the room. All except for Russia and America, who just stayed in their seats, glaring at the veteran boardroom table.

The Russian wondered why he was even still here. There America was, he might just jump him or something. Two superpowers in the same room alone was never a good idea. Russia started to get scared that America might try to attack him in here. He never really liked Russia, did he? Always calling him a communist and whatnot. What if he were to get serious? No, all he wanted to do was to run back home and cry into his pillow where no one could see him. Just to drown in his loneliness, no need to rub it in.

Russia timidly looked up, glancing at the lone nation across the table. America wasn't smiling. His cerulean eyes were fogged and glazed as he stared listlessly at the staining on the surface. It almost looked like he was about to cry. The Russian started to notice a few things about his supposed enemy. He was tired. This was surprising. Usually, America was full of energy, laughing and poking jokes, smiling like winter never came. Come to think of it, those shadows under his eyes were always there. It was just the animated talking and laughing that steered people away from his appearance. After all, he was still the United States of America, the man in uniform. If anyone met him without any further context, they would've been terrified of him.

So, why wasn't he? Easy, America distracted everyone from what they should be fearing. America didn't want to be feared so he could converse with others. Even if the people he conversed with didn't like him. 

This was the first time Russia ever saw him like this. All tired and silent. So it startled him when he slowly stood up from his seat, the chair mutely scraping against the carpeted floor. He idly walked around the boardroom table and stopped at one end. From that end, he walked to the end of the aisle where Russia sat, staring at him tiredly.

The one in question turned and faced the American, trying to keep his fear off his face. What is he going to do? Is he going to hurt him? Did he finally snap? Is this another war? What is happening? Russia didn't want this. He wanted to be anywhere but there. America wasn't a necessarily bad nation, but he knew he hated him and wanted nothing to do with him. So what is he doing now?

"U-Uh," Russia mentally cursed for sounding so scared and weak, "Shouldn't we be getting home, da?"

America said nothing. After a moment of thought, he took a couple of steps closer to Russia to where he was only a few feet away. Russia's eyes fell on America's suddenly visible holster. A gun. Was he going to shoot him? Of all the days he decided to leave his pipe at home is when America brings in a gun? Russia was trying to make himself less threatening by slowly bringing the pipe less! America must've noticed and had his gun on him!

After staring at each other for a couple of minutes, Russia jolted at America's attempt at his next movement. Slowly and carefully, he raised his arms up, outstretched like a mother reaching out for a hug. America's head tilted a little to the side, his eyes looking hazier. He really did look like he was going to cry.

Russia hoped that he didn't look that he was going to cry, because he definitely felt like it. The gesture was so inviting and so comforting that it takes all that Russia had to keep from jumping into his arms and crying his heart out and pouring his problems into the air. This had to be a prank. There had to be cameras around the room that'll record this whole thing-

"Come here," America murmured, soft and sad. 

It was at that moment that Russia didn't care anymore. He lept out of his seat and ran into the American's waiting arms. They closed around him tightly, one cradling his head and the other supporting his back as the two sunk to the floor. Russia's head was buried in America's shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably, making sounds of half screams and choking cries. America just patted him on the back leaning his head against Russia's.

A soft humming sound came to Russia's ears. It suddenly had words to its soft and cracked melody. The song sounded hoarse and whispering. Like a mother who had just woken up to comfort her baby back to sleep. America was singing to him softly, rocking him back and forth slowly, letting Russia pour out.

"You are my sunshine."

"My only sunshine."

"You make me happy."

"When skies are gray."

"You may not know, dear..."

"...How much...I love you."

"Please don't take...my sunshine...away."

The Russian in America's arms had stopped choking on his tears. It subsided into small sobs, his face still buried desperately into America's shoulder. He listened intently to the American's soft humming and gentle heartbeat. Feeling his hands hold him safe from harm and rocking him comfortingly. It lulled him to a sense of security that he never felt before. He didn't question why he was doing this anymore. Russia just was thankful that it was happening.

Once Russia finally calmed down, America pulled both of them back up and made Russia face him. Even though Russia was taller than him, America cupped his hands around his face, wiping away stray tears with his thumbs. A light smile was on his face, with the tips of his brows dipping with concern and exasperation.

"Feel better?" he murmured softly.

Russia pressed a hand to his mouth, trying to muffle an incoming cry. He could only nod.

"Hey," America whispered, pulling him into another hug, this time the two standing up. Russia was crying again. But this was okay. America was going to be here to comfort him. 

"I'm here, baby, I'm right here for you."

**Author's Note:**

> ...If any of you have seen the post, the words from the original said 'Where are you?', to which I responded, 'I'm here, baby, I'm right here for you.'.
> 
> By the way, instead of singing 'You Are My Sunshine', America was supposed to be singing 'Creep' by Radiohead. I might make a fic about that one...


End file.
